


Play For Me, Dance For Me

by alime



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: F/F, Female Hinata Shouyou/Female Kageyama Tobio, Genderbending, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-07
Updated: 2016-01-07
Packaged: 2018-05-12 08:36:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5659768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alime/pseuds/alime
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Where is episode 14 of season 2?  Who knows?  </p>
<p>This is what happens when I'm without my hq boys - they become girls - a ballerina too bold for tact and a pianist too shy for it all</p>
            </blockquote>





	Play For Me, Dance For Me

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoy this! I only recently discovered i love genderbending. Please let me know what you think ~

Kageyama finishes piano everyday at five thirty.  Her teacher nods their head and smiles as Kageyama quietly leaves with a bundle of recital books and practice sheets hugged to her chest.  Her dark blue backpack jostles and catches on her long black hair as she hurries down the hall.  She turns left and then right and then trips down a short flight of stairs and then turns right again and then she stops outside a green door with a shiny silver bar handle and tinted windows.  Gentle classical music slips through the cracks.  Kageyama’s breathing a little heavily as she steps up to the glass.

She’s there.  Soft and graceful and moving so fluidly, so effortlessly, twirling and jumping and bending until her nose touches her knee and then backward until her fingers sweep the ground.  She’s beautiful.  Kageyama grips the handle as she watches.  From the moment Kageyama saw the girl, she was entranced.  The dancer is short but strong.  She has fiery red hair that’s cut clean at her chin and neat straight bangs, unlike the uneven mess Kageyama herself sports.  Her eyes are a light brown, and they sparkle when she talks; although, Kageyama has never actually talked to her.  She’s not even sure of her name.

She stumbled across the room a few months back when a bratty underclassman ran off with some of her notes.  They dropped them down the east staircase, and the papers landed not far from the dance room.  Kageyama heard the music and then had gone around the corner to investigate. 

And the rest is history.

Well . . . not so much since she’s still standing on the other side of the door, peering in, secretly, lewdly.  Kageyama licks her lips and squeezes the cold metal bar.  The music inside is reaching a crescendo, growing loud and dramatic.  The dancer is spinning faster, leaping and arching and stretching.  Her hair is like a flare.  She’s sweating and smiling and then with the last thunderous note she’s flying, her arms spread out like wings, across the other side of the room where she tumbles head over heels into the corner.

Kageyama gasps and leans forward, smashing her face into the window.  Her weight shifts the handle bar down and the door swings easily open, toppling Kageyama forward.  Someone laughs in the distance.  It’s a high, bell-like sound.  There’s a groan and a grumble and the music stops.  Kageyama looks up.  The dancer is already on her feet, hands on her waist with one hip cocked, staring down at her with large, amused eyes.  The instructor sighs loudly.

“Hinata,” she says, “If you don’t practice your landing you’re going to seriously injure yourself.  Not to mention be unable to compete in the bi-annual pre-finals.”

“There are mats,” Hinata replies, turning away from Kageyama.  She looks at a young woman standing with her arms crossed in front of a wall of mirrors.  “And I’ll definitely learn the landing.”

The woman’s mouth relaxes slightly.  “Alright, then, I guess that’ll do it for today.  Do your warm-down stretches and lock up the room.  Your friend can stay if she wants.”

Kageyama feels a shock go through her.  She scrambles into a sitting position and nods to the woman, then looks at the girl.  She’s smirking.  Kageyama blushes.  The instructor leaves, the door closing in an echoing clap behind her.  It’s quiet.  Hinata prances over to the stereo and selects a CD.  Light, smooth music trickles from the speakers.  The girl moves in front of the mirrors, her back to Kageyama, and slides gracefully to the floor.  Kageyama watches her.  Her skin is pale, and her limbs are long.  She’s eyeing Kageyama in the mirrors, but they still don’t talk.  Another twenty minutes and Hinata stands, kicking off her ballet shoes and rolling her head.  She straightens and turns to Kageyama, still kneeling on the floor, and stretches out her hand.

“Do you want to dance?” she asks.

Kageyama’s mouth drops a bit.  “Oh.  No.”

Hinata’s walking toward her, hand still reaching.

“No, no, I really can’t.  Can’t dance.”

Hinata’s in front of her, grinning and offering a soft palm and warm fingers.  Kageyama slips into her hand and soon she’s being pulled onto her feet and led to the center of the room.

“Really,” she tries again, but Hinata is taking her other hand and placing it on her waist.  “I can’t dance.”  A small hand hugs her hip.

“It doesn’t matter,” Hianta giggles, and she begins twirling them.

Kageyama feels light.  Airy.  Her hand tightens around Hinata’s.  She doesn’t want to float away.  They’re spinning together, holding each other, moving around the room to lazy, twinkling music.  Hinata is a foot shorter, but she’s the one leading them, creating a rhythm with the music.  Kageyama begins breathing heavier.  This close, she can smell Hinata, an energetic yet heady fragrance.  There are stray red hairs stuck against her temple.  Her skin is shiny.  Her lips are wet and red. 

“Um, H–Hi –”

“Hinata.”

“Hinata,” Kageyama breathes.  “You’re a beautiful dancer.”

The red haired girl smiles almost bashfully.  “Thank you.”

She pulls them faster.  Her strides grow longer and quicker.  Kageyama’s hair flies out behind her in a thick black curtain as they spin.  The music heightens, and they sway and twist and whirl about the room until Kageyama’s head becomes fuzzy and disoriented.  She grins in a drunken way.  Hinata laughs and lets go of Kageyama, falling to the ground and laying back.  Kageyama sits back, too.

“What’s your name?” Hinata asks.

“Kageyama.”

“Why did you watch me outside the window?”

Kageyama’s face gets hot.  She glances over at Hinata.  “I wanted to see you dance.”

“Why didn’t you come in?”

“I was scared.”

Hinata turns to her.  “Of what?”

Kageyama swallows.  Her mouth is dry.  She shrugs.  Hinata leans close, looking up at her from under long dark lashes. 

“I’ll only bite if you ask me to,” Hinata purrs.

Kageyama chokes and Hinata laughs loudly. 

“You’re too easy,” she sighs, standing and walking to an orange and black gym bag.  She pulls on a jacket, zips it up, and shimmies into baggy sweatpants.  “I’m going to get a hot chocolate.  Wanna come?”

“Yeah,” Kageyama says. 

Getting up, she gathers her papers and slips on her backpack.  Hinata leads the way, strolling through the halls with ease and confidence.  The vending machines are outside.  It’s late November, and the sky is a steel sheet above them speckled with gold spots from the sun.  The air bites them as they hurry down the sidewalk.  Hinata is jumping up and down and then running as soon as the vending machines are in sight.

“Ah!” Kageyama starts.  “Hey, wait!”

She runs after the short mane of red hair as it dashes away.  Hinata’s already putting in her change when Kageyama jogs up behind her.

“Alright,” Hinata beams, slapping the machine, “choose anything you want.  On me.”

Kageyama is lost for words.  She can’t keep up with this girl.  She moved so fast, so strongly.

“Thank you,” Kageyama says.  “I’ll pay you back.”

Hinata shakes her head.  “It’s for saying I was a beautiful dancer.  That meant a lot.”

Kageyama reddens and squints at all the selections.  She gets milk.  Hinata gets hot chocolate, and they go back inside. 

“Mmm,” Hinata moans, slurping it down.  “This really warms you form the inside out.”

She has a chocolate mustache, but Kageyama doesn’t tell her.  Hinata starts messing with her hair, fluffing her bangs and fixing her part.  She huffs.  Kageyama just watches her. 

“Hinata,” she says eventually. 

“Hmm?”

“I can watch you when you dance.”

“Of course.”

“Your instructor won’t mind?”

“Cindy?  No!  I don’t think so.  Anyway, who cares.”

Hinata’s eyes are large, her lips are closed around a thin white straw.  Her head is tilted.  Kageyama can’t look away, doesn’t want to look away. 

“Are you going to watch me, then?” Hinata asks.

“Probably.  Yes.”

Brown eyes dart to the music sheets Kageyama’s holding.

“What do you play?”

“The piano,” Kageyama replies somewhat proudly.

“Do you like it?”

She nods, smiling.

“Would you play for me?”

Kageyama’s breath catches.  It’s not that she hadn’t played in front of people before.  She’d been in concerts.  But Hinata’s presence would make her so nervous.  She opens her mouth and closes it.  Hinata continues to stare at her evenly.

“Would you play for me while I danced?”

Oh.  Kageyama’s heart might have skipped a beat.  Imagining Hinata dancing to her music sends a million butterflies flapping through her blood.  She feels airy, again.

Kageyama nods.  “I’d love – love to.”

Hinata grins.  “Let’s do it!”

Kageyama lets out a breath she didn’t know she was holding.  Hinata’s looking at her radiantly, and Kageyama wonders is she should thank the brat who flung her papers down the east staircase.          


End file.
